The Small and Unexpected
by FunkyLittleHufflepuff
Summary: Its often said that great things come in small packages. And though Rosie is used to being small she's not so used to beng THIS small. Nor is Marie for that matter. But somehow thats how fate has landed them. Now they just have to figure out what to do about it and the crazy quest before them. Or maybe not. Perhaps being so small isn't such a bad thing after all. Kili/OC Dwalin/OC
1. Waking Up To Dwarves

Chapter One: Waking Up to Dwarves

Waking was a long and drawn out process. At times she would feel all-consumed by the darkness around her, though not uncomfortably so. It was warm and pleasant, despite the lack of sight. At any other time it would have likely frightened her in the worst of ways. But not now. Now it was a comfort.

There were other times though, when she would be neither consumed nor wakeful. Those were the worst times. It was then that she felt suppressed and lethargic. She would hear voices and movement. Light would grace her eyes for only brief flashes of time, when she could manage to pull her lids apart.

But that was a rare gift, and once done, the darkness would consume her again.

At that moment she was in another neither-nor state. The darkness remained right on the edge of her mind, but its presence was dwindled. The voices were all around her, muttering and hushing, though she couldn't begin to hope to understand them. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.

She was terribly uncomfortable. Her whole body – or at least what of it that she could feel – felt as though it was being poked at and prodded. Pains and aches clung to the back recesses of her mind – things she was aware of but had no idea where they were coming from.

She should have been afraid, and she knew it. The pain was new; something she hadn't been aware of at any moment prior to this. It should have startled her, concerned her. Pain was never good. But right then everything was far too hazed for her to really care. With the darkness gone and diminishing, it was like a fog as thick as cream had settled over her, leaving her mind in a muddled mess.

Light began to play behind her eyelids. It should have been pleasant, really. It had been a very long time since she'd seen light. Or at least it felt like it. But somehow the light stung. It was too bright, too sharp, and too invasive. She wanted to move, to wiggle away from it, but her body was heavy and limp and she could seem to gain any control over her muscles.

Some back corner of her mind asked her why she should even bother. Yes, there was some pain, and yes, she was feeling a bit uncomfortable over whatever it was that kept prodding, but it wasn't all that bad, was it? Why try and move? Why try to think through the fog? If she waited long enough, perhaps the darkness would return and she would be comfortable again. And that sounded like a fine idea in and of itself.

Her body seemed to battle her mind, however. Awareness was beginning to seep more heavily into her and as the light played at her eyes she wearily fought the urge open them. After all, what good would that do? If the light was already hurting her eyes with them closed, how bad would it be if it were not for the barrier?

Her concern over the pain of her eyes, however, was beginning to dwindle just as quickly as her friendly darkness. There were new, stronger pains that were taking root. Her head was beginning to ache with a ferocity even her worst migraines could not compete with, and the stings the sprung from her back and her legs would have had her curled up and crying had she had the ability. Everything felt stiff and though true feeling was returning to her limbs, she was sorely wishing it wouldn't. It suddenly didn't seem fair. There was dreadful sense of fatigue that clung to every inch of her, and in her still fogged state there seemed to be no greater injustice that that which kept her from her darkness.

The light suddenly flashed down upon her with a brief, but renewed, intensity and she decided that she could take no more. Summoning every ounce of strength that she could, she made to roll over and away from the offending glare. At first she'd thought she'd managed it too, for the light turned to shadow and the sting left her eyes. But in the next moment she felt something stern, but gentle push back on her shoulder, moving her back down, as one of the murmuring voices broke out from the rest.

"Careful now, lass. None of that," a deep voice hushed. The mutterings around her grew in volume, though she caught nothing else of what was being said. She wanted them to go away; to be able to cover her ears and fade away from them. But it would seemed that they had different ideas. With each second that passed, the volume seemed to grow, grinding and irritating her already pounding head. There was voices and movement, some soft, some harsh, and some that would have sounded like arguments had she really been paying much attention. As it was, there was only one detail that she had managed to cling to: all the voices were deep and distinctly masculine.

It was another realization that she knew should have frightened her. There was some back section of her slow-clearing mind that told her it was bad, that it shouldn't be like that. But the still-muddled nature of her brain kept any real fear at bay. It was simply too strong an emotion for her to manage.

"Stop crowding her, lads! Give the lass some space!" a new voice cut out through the rest. It was just as deep as the first, but gruffer, hasher in tone and pitch. And it made her head pound with its nearness.

"Ori! Leave her be! And take that damned journal someplace else!"

There was a brief dip in the murmuring before it resumed again with a vengeance. There was nothing more she could have wished for at that moment than for either someone to clamp their hands over her ears to get her a good pair of earplugs. The noise was grating on her every nerve and had she had the strength, she would have not so kindly told them all to stuff it. Instead, all she was able to muster was a rather unladylike groan.

All of a sudden though, all sound ceased. The hand on her shoulder – for that was all she could assume it was – tensed, while another one very much like it placed itself against her forehead before shifting to her cheek.

"Is the lass alright?" the hand on her shoulder ask in a gentle voice. The owner of the second hand sighed.

"Oh, aye. But I'd say she's finally coming to. And likely in a nasty bit of pain as well."

A murmuring broke out again, although much quieter and hushed. It was followed closely after by a fair bit of movement and shuffling before another, higher voice rang out.

"You mean she's awake then? Can she hear us?"

If she hadn't known any better, she would have though the voice sounded nearly _excited_ at the prospect. The second hand didn't seem terribly pleased by that though, and snapped a "Hush laddie!" before sighing again.

"Lass?" the hand on her shoulder murmured, squeezing gently as if to get her attention. "If you can hear us, we'd much appreciate knowing."

Without thinking or even realizing what she was doing, she lolled her head toward the voice. Her cheek was met with what she now knew for certain to be a warm hand, but the movement was something she instantly regretted, for no sooner had it been made than did a sharp thread of pain lace its way up her neck, attacking her nerves and sending her throbbing head for a spin. She tried to scrunch her brow against the sudden onslaught of pain, and scowled, another groan leaving her lips.

"Careful there," the same voice said, releasing her shoulder and patting it gently. "But thank you. Oin, is there anything more you can give her for the pain?"

She didn't hear the answer. The pangs in her head were beginning to lose their edge as she settled with her head to the side. She was still very much aware of the pains plaguing the rest of her body, but as the pain in her head decreased she could sense her body beginning to relax. Unfortunately she could also feel her eyes begin to itch behind her lids, as she fidgeted, trying to relieve the urge to blink. The light was back, but no longer seemed quite so harsh. She had to fight down the sudden desire to open her eyes and look about her.

Her fight was futile.

It took her several tries before she was finally able to get them open. Her eyelids felt like stone weights and without the barrier the light was for a moment so bright that she had to squeeze them shut again.

Once she'd managed that feat however, and her eyes adjusted with only a slight renewal of her headache, she found that her previous observation had been correct – she was surrounded only by men, or at least as far as she could tell from her position. They were all muttering amongst themselves again – or more like arguing, really – their attention momentarily diverted. Whoever it was who's hand had held her should was now gone and her eyes flicked back and forth from one bearded face to the next, hardly comprehending exactly what it was she was seeing until her eyes met with those of one of the men sitting a couple of yards away.

She paused for only a second before squeezing her eyes shut again and blinking rapidly.

'_I am_ not _seeing this._'

But it would seem that she certainly was, for when her eyes focused again, he was still there, watching her with concern and clutching a large leather book to his chest.

'_No, no. It's not real. You're just confused and not seeing things right.'_

"And what else are we supposed to do? We can't just pick up and move! We've got no choice but to give it a few days!"

"And all the while we'll just be wasting time! Why can't we just put her on the back of a pony and be done with it?"

"'Cause we can't! Oin's right, the lass is in no condition to travel!"

'_Oin.'_

The name rang in her head.

This was obviously someone's idea of a sick joke. Either that or her imagination was far more overactive that she already knew it to be. This was _not_ happening.

Her eyes slid back to the one with the book. He was still watching her, eyebrows scrunched with worry as his fingers tugged at the edges of his knitted gloves. And all of a sudden it hit her as strongly as the pain in her head had.

Maybe, just maybe, this _was_ happening.

'_No, don't be silly, it's not.'_

"We can't keep dawdling like this! Are we going to pick up _every_ stray we pass?" one of the gruffest voices she'd hear so far demanded.

"Are you suggesting we _leave_ her here?" a voice she recognized as the hand from her shoulder shot back, sounding absolutely appalled by the idea. She wished very strongly for a moment that she could turn her head without another round of pain from her neck. She still wasn't nearly convinced that this was all truly taking place, but she was anxious to see what, or who, else was involved in this bizarre situation.

Then, what was being said suddenly hit her. She hadn't been paying much attention to the argument blooming around her, but the last comment she'd picked up on suddenly made its way into her aching head loud and clear. A momentary fear clutched at her stomach at the implication of being left behind and without thinking she tried to turn toward the voices, only to be stopped when another crack of pain shot up her neck.

Her face crumpled as she let her head fall back down with a hiss. In a sudden flurry, the one with the book was up on his feet and at her side, looking quite frantically like he wanted to do _something_, but hadn't the slightest idea as to was best.

Looking back up and around at his arguing companions, a frown settled on his face.

Not a moment later, two more faces came into view behind him. Almost on instinct, she squeezed her eyes shut and blinked like she'd done prior, before returning her gaze upon the newcomers.

And like before, they were still staring back down at her.

'_I think I've officially gone mad.'_

She recognized the both of them, of course she did, just like she'd recognized the one with the book. But she refused to let herself think their names. Somehow, if she did, it would be like admitting that all this was real – that she was lying there, pain still pinching at her legs, back and neck, in the middle of a camp of dwarves that by all means should not exist – and that was not something she as ready for.

Like the one with the book, both boys looked down at her with concern and just a touch of confusion. She made no move or sound; just stared at them like they stared at her. After a long moment though, something seemed to perk their ears and they looked up at their kin with matching frowns.

"Isn't one enough?" the gruffest of the voices met her ears again. "We're struggling on as it is, we can't keep taking on things that slow us down!"

"Where's your sense of honor, brother?" a new voice cut in.

"The lad's got a point though. We'll never get anywhere toting around injured women," a third voice commented.

"The wilds are no place for 'em," a fourth agreed.

Her fear from before settled back in her gut and she felt suddenly ill. A panic started in her heart and she grimaced, closing her eyes and trying to fight back prickling of fear-induced tears that were attempting to gather at the corners of her eyes. She tried to will the emotion away, taking deep breaths to steady herself and clenching her hands as if the motion would choke it down.

'_Okay, let's say this is happening; they wouldn't really leave me here, would they? I mean, I'm not completely useless, but I will die out here on my own!'_

It was at that same moment however, that she realized that to them, she would indeed be useless. She was injured and in pain, so much so that she couldn't move her own head for fear of it, and even without all that, what could she possibly have to offer them? What skill could she possibly possess that would be of any use to them?

The tears escaped her eyes then. Usually she wasn't so bad with emotion, but between the pain and the fear of what fate may or may not lie ahead of her, she couldn't find it in herself to hold it in.

A rough hand brushed her forehead, pausing only briefly before moving to wipe away the tears that had run down her cheeks.

"Are you alright?" a quiet voice asked. She pealed her eyes open and gazed up into a concerned face surrounded by blond hair.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, the crease between his eyebrows deepening along with his frown. She didn't answer though; just kept staring up at him, unable to come to grips with everything going on around her.

He waited for her to reply, but when it became apparent that she wasn't going to, he turned his face up to the group of still-arguing dwarves.

"Oin!" he called, but was ignore.

"Oin!" he called again, louder this time, but was still met with no response. They just went on arguing and took no notice of him at all. His brother behind his looked caught between amusement and concern, and the one with the book continued the fidgeting with his gloves.

"OIN!" he all but barked out. The entire camp went suddenly silent, and after a moment she could hear the shuffle of everyone – or nearly everyone at least – turning to look at them.

"The lass is awake."


	2. Confusion, Thy Name is Rosie

Chapters Two: Confusion, Thy Name is Rosie

Silence and a great sense of hesitation followed the blond dwarf's announcement. No one made any hint of movement for a long, tense moment, all standing still as stone with eyes trained on her, until one of the dwarves let out a deep sigh.

And just like that, the moment was broken. Once again there was the rushing of feet as many more, though not all, of the dwarves came into her line of sight. With each new, but recognizable face added she had to keep herself from continuing the squeeze-shut-and-blink routine for she would surely go dizzy from repeating the gesture so many times, and that was the last thing she needed. Her mind was no longer so muddled, but she was still a ways from "back up to speed." And the quick flashes of movement and blurring of face after face was sending her for quite a loop on its own.

With a huff, one of the dwarves dropped down at her side opposite the blond dwarf. She had to strain her eyes to try and glimpse him with her head stuck to the side the way it was, and even then all she managed to get was an eyeful of grey and white hair.

'_Oin,'_ her mind provided before she could stop it.

"I think she's in pain," the fair-haired dwarf stated grimly, concern still the dominate emotion in his face. It occurred to her briefly that it wasn't really a look that suited the young dwarf. It made him look older and her feel rather guilty for putting it there, though she could hardly help it at the moment.

"Aye, I'd be surprised if she wasn't," Oin replied quite simply before turning his attention to her. Or at least, she assumed that he'd turned toward her because she could now see even more of his grey beard than before.

"It's about time you joined us, lass," he began, sounding not quite as gruff as some of the other voices she'd heard, but still a little raspy. "Heavens knows you took your time doing it. Not that we can hardly blame you, you looked pretty worse for wear when we found you." There was a slight murmur of agreement that resounded from the rest of the group. "Can you speak, lass? Tell us where you're hurting most? We've done what we can by what we could guess, but it'll do us little good to try and get you up and going if we haven't a right place to start."

"I think there's something wrong with her neck, or her head," Ori squeaked from a few feet away where he was still standing with the dark-hair brother, his gloves becoming rather misshapen from his continual pulling at them. "I saw her try to move before, but she couldn't! You don't think…you don't think she hit her head or something, do you?"

Oin's beard bobbed as he turned to the young dwarf. "May be likely, but we won't know until she tells us."

Silence fell over the group again, but it wasn't until she noticed how intently they watched her that she realized they were all waiting for her to start talking. A crease formed between her eyebrows as her eyes flashed from dwarf to dwarf. What exactly was she supposed to say? She didn't know what on earth was going on, weather she'd hit anything or not, and _everywhere _hurt, or so it would seem. The ache in her head rose again for a moment in her confusion and she added a small frown to match her creased brow. Where was she supposed to start?

"Lass?" She was startled from the mists of her confusion when her eyes flashed at the voice she recognized as the hand from her shoulder and settled on a kind-faced dwarf not far away. Like some of the others, he carried a general look of concern, though whether do to her apparent condition as a whole, or because it would appear as though she weren't able to answer them, she didn't know. He took a few short steps towards her, hat bobbing as he came to kneel beside Fili. He spared a quick glance at Oin on her other side before looking back down at her. "How about something simpler? Can you tell us your name?"

She stared at him and blinked for a few good minutes before she managed process the question.

'_Your name, stupid. Tell them your name.'_

She had to open and close her mouth a few times – probably looking quite ridiculously like a fish while doing so – before she managed to get any sound out. She hadn't noticed it before, but her throat felt rather dry and terribly scratchy when she tried to swallow, and the first couple times she'd forced air past her lips, it sounded far more like a rasp or wheeze than words at all.

After a few more attempts, she managed to push out a quiet and rough answer.

"Rosamund."

She had intended on expanding, giving her last name as well and maybe even her middle name, the way some people might when they are introduced to others. But before she could, a cough, followed closely by a rather horrid sounding fit of them, retched its way from her ragged throat and sending sparks through her neck with every spasmed breath.

Fortunately the fit didn't last long, but it left her throat burning, her head spinning and tears welling in the corners of her eyes again. Bofur reached up and patted her arm gently once she settled again, watching her with a sympathetic smile and gentle eyes. On her other side, Oin let out another deep and weighty sigh, but mimicked Bofur's gesture and kindly patted other shoulder as well.

"Alright lass, hold on just a second," he hushed, his beard bobbing again just on the edge of her vision as he turned his attention to the blond dwarf beside still her. "Fili, go and fetch a water skin, the girl is parched. And while you're going, take Kili with you and tell Thorin and the wizard that our guest is awake."

Without a word, Fili rose from her side with his brother hot on his heels as they both faded from her line of sight.

"Now lass," Oin began again, pulling her attention to him. "I'd like to try and sit you up. Bear with me as best you can and try not to tense up, it'll only make things worse. Bofur, get her other side, would you lad? Support her neck, if you can."

Bofur complied without a response, moving closer to her side and slipping a hesitant hand under her cheek to cup the base of her skull. His other hand made to hold her shoulder as Oin's own hands did the same.

"Dwalin, get the lass' legs, and don't jostle her."

Rosamund couldn't see the warrior dwarf, but only seconds after the order was given she felt a pair of strong hands grasp her just below the knees.

"Alright lass, lads, steady now and…_up!_"

Pain swam back into her body as the dwarves carefully lifted her up and settled her again against a very nearby tree, though not half so bad as she would have initially though. The joints in her legs ached as they were indeed jostled, and the sting in her back pinched as they set her up to sit, but Bofur's hand at her neck was steady, as were the hands that grasped her arms.

Hardly a second after they'd gotten her up, Ori appeared at Bofur's side, passing to him what she could only process as a rolled up wad of fabric which he took gratefully. Upon removing his hand from her neck, he placed the roll in its stead, wrapping it around like a towel to keep her head from lolling.

Within the next moment, Fili and Kili appeared again, still rather grim-faced as they passed a water skin to Oin who immediately placed it against her lips. The first few sips were difficult and painful, her sore throat stinging with every attempt at swallowing. But gradually the soothing nature of water began to pacify the ache and she drank deeply and almost greedily, relishing in the comfort of it.

All too soon though, the pouch was taken from her lips. When she opened her eyes again, she was for the first time able to meet the faces of nearly all the Company. It was nearly an overwhelming sight, as you can likely imagine, and a little more than intimidating when she fully realized just how many eyes were on her.

"Okay lass, let's try this again," Oin said. "Where is it you're hurting most?"

She stared at him for just a moment, now that she could see his face, and blinked three times before answering.

"Legs. Back," she rasped, her voice still sounding horrid even after the water. "Neck."

The grey-haired dwarf just nodded like it was the most expected thing in the world.

"Aye, that's much of what we'd assumed," he said. "Looks to us like you took a right nasty fall of some sort."

Rosamund scrunched her eyebrows and regarded him with confusion – something she felt like she was doing quite a lot. She didn't remember falling. As a matter of fact, she didn't remember much of anything. That, of course, gave her a pause, as she scrunched her brows further in thought.

It didn't seem to do her much good, however. Even after a few quite moments she could still remember nothing that made much sense, particularly in regards to her current predicament. The last thing she could dig up was that night down town with the girls to celebrate Lynnette's twenty-first birthday at that little old pub on the corner that always smelled like smoke but had the best bartenders, right across the street from the town's only flower shop, owned my one of the crabbiest of women she had ever met, along with that _horrendous_ rat of a feline that _always _sat out front and glared at them, laughing and stumbling and _pushing_ each other and –

No. _No_, this wasn't happening. She had to be dreaming or something. After all, she and the girls had been a little more than tipsy that night. She must have passed out somewhere or at some point. Francine had probably picked her up like she always did when they got like that, and she was really at home right now, snuggled up under her sheets. This was just some crazy alcohol-induced dream and she would wake up in the morning with a roaring hangover, swearing up and down that she would never drink again, just like she always did.

Yes, of course, that had to be what this was.

Yet somehow, the pain in her body and the undeniably real faces around her told her differently.

"Lass? Are you alright?" this time, when her eyes snapped up, she found it was the white-haired dwarf that had spoken.

"I don't know what's going on," she said before she could think of anything else. The other dwarves regarded her for only a second before they all began nodding understandingly. The white-haired dwarf – _'Balin'_ her brain provided – moved forward to stand next to Oin.

"Don't worry too hard, lass," he said with a reassuring smile, 'You're in some of the best hands you could come across. Lucky it was us that found you. No harm will come to you from this lot."

"'Course not!" Kili piped up from the mass of dwarves around her, "Mahal help whoever would try to harm you while you're with us!"

A low chuckle resounded from the group at the young dwarf's statement, and despite the naivety that rang in his voice, Rosamund had to admit that it made her feel a little bit better, if only just. She wasn't a fool after all, and if she really was where and with whom she thought she was, then she knew that she had nothing to fear from them. That, of course, didn't stop her from being uncomfortable, or worrying despite Balin's advice.

The pattering of approaching footsteps pulled everyone's attention away from her as four new figures made their way into their little clearing. The grey-cloaked wizard was the first to break the circle of dwarves, staff in hand and eyes twinkling from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. The next to break through was the dwarf Rosamund knew instantly as the leader of the Company. He stood strong and stiff as he regarded her, arms crossed over his chest and cold eyes looking down his nose at her. Had she not known who he was, he would have likely scared the shit out of her. Although, knowing didn't stop her gut insisting she find some place to hide.

The feeling was all but banished, however, when the third figure stumbled rather ungracefully in just behind Thorin and halted quite suddenly as his eyes fixated on her from beneath the bouncing brown mop of hair on his head. He gapped, open-mouthed and eyes blinking, looking to be at quite a loss of words and about as much like a fish as she had probably looked not long ago.

"Then it is true," Gandalf said, chuckling quietly at Bilbo's expression, "Our guest has finally come to join the world of the waking."

"It would seem as much," Thorin replied in a steeling tone, a frown growing on his face.

"Who is she? And what is her name?" he asked, turning his attention to the dwarves at her side. At any other time, Rosamund would have been irked by his obvious dismissal of her as an intelligent being, perfectly able of giving him her name herself. But right then she was a little too sore and a little too wary of him to make any protest.

"She says her name is Rosamund," answered Balin.

"And what else has she said? Has she told you what business she has in these woods?" Thorin pressed, eyeing her with suspicion.

This time it was Bofur who answered, shaking his head. "We haven't asked her yet. The lass has had a hard enough time wakin' up, we haven't gotten to asking too many questions yet."

"And that is probably for the best," Gandalf chimed in just as Thorin was opening his mouth to say something more. "She will need rest, still. And time, before she is in any condition to interrogate. It would be better to save such questions for a later time."

Thorin turned to glare, arms still crossed, at the old wizard before turning his back abruptly and striding out of the group without another word. Balin, Dwalin, and several of the other dwarves stood to follow him, some casting their eyes back at her before the melted into the background. Oin gave her shoulder one last pat and muttered a quiet, "Rest, and we'll see how you're feeling in a bit," before he too stood to follow, leaving her with only Gandalf, Bilbo, Bofur, and the Durin brothers.

As she looked over her only remaining companions, she realized that she'd missed the fourth figure that had followed Gandalf and Thorin in. When her eyes found Kili, however, they also found a face she had not noticed before.

'_The fourth.'_

Brown eyes stared back at her, head tilted and brow scrunched in what looked to be either confusion or curiosity, or both. It was another moment though, before Rosamund also realized that this was a face she did not know. Not at all. And in that same moment, a second realization hit her.

'_It's a girl.'_

It was easy to see though, why she'd made the mistake. Standing there, half hidden behind the youngest Durin, the girl was the same in height as many of the rest of the dwarves. She had a mass of hazel-brown curls that surrounded her face looked to be about as neatly kept as the hair belonging any of the other dwarves, and the trousers and tunic she wore looked to be about two or three times too large for her, held up only barely by the roughly tied belt at her waist. Even the boots on her feet looked to be too big.

"Ah, yes," Gandalf chuckled again, having seemed to take notice of Rosamund's surprise. "It would seem that we may soon be traveling with _two_ women in our company."

"Providing of course that you're up on your feet again soon, lass," Bofur said, grinning. "Though with Oin's help, I wouldn't see that as a problem."

"And of course, if Uncle lets her come," Fili added, glancing back and forth between Rosamund and the girl.

"Of course he will!" Kili interjected, taking a half step away from the girl behind him and towards his brother. "He let Marie come, didn't he? And she's been with us two weeks! Why wouldn't let…um…um…" he paused, casting a quick glance down at her.

"Rosamund. Or Rosie, if you'd like," she offered.

"Right! Why wouldn't he let Rosie come too?"

Fili didn't answer, just shook his head at his younger brother. "Let" was too willing a word to use when describing exactly what had forced their uncle's hand into allowing Marie to accompany them, but he wasn't going to begin to explain that to Kili.

"Well, all things considered, I have full faith that Miss Rosamund too shall be a member of this company before all is done," Gandalf stated, his face softening as his eyes roamed over the little group. "Until then, I suggest we focus our time and energy on the present and the healing of our guest."

"Aye," Bofur agreed, nodding a little as he made to stand making his hat bob. "And supper!" He looked down at her with a wide grin. "It won't be much, I'm sorry to say, but that's not saying it won't be good! I'll make sure to send one of the lads over with a bowel for you, lass." And with that, he departed, weaving back through the small ring of trees between where she was situated and where she could the rest of the dwarves gathered round a small camp fire in the late afternoon light.

"Well, then, I do believe the matter is settled for the time being then," said Gandalf, smiling at her one last time before turning and motioning for the still rather perplexed looking hobbit to follow him. "And do not worry Miss Rosamund, as night comes you will not be left on your own. Someone will come to stand guard so that you may rest in safety." He took a few steps before pausing and turning his attention briefly to the Durin brothers and the girl. "Fili, Kili, Marie, I do not believe that I need remind you of your duty to the ponies."

Both brothers slump their shoulders with matching looks that clearly stated that they would really rather do just about anything than go watch ponies at that moment. But they complied, dragging their feet and casing one last look at her like the others before leaving. Marie, however, stayed standing and unmoving, even once the brothers were gone. Her eyes were still locked squarely one Rosie, but there was something in them that didn't match with any of the emotions she'd seen in the eyes of any of the other dwarves. Marie scrunched and unscrunched her eyebrows, like she was fighting some sort of battle with herself. At some point though, it seemed as though one side must have won, because Marie squared her shoulders and let out a deep breath, before moving quite determinedly toward her.


	3. Meeting Marie

**Hello dearies! I'm terribly sorry for the wait on this chapter. It wasn't until after I posted the first two that I realized it was rather foolish of me to start posting a story just before finals and starting a new job. But now that finals are very much done (yay!) and things have settled at work, I will try my hardest to be much more punctual about my updates! This is the last "intro-ish" chapter, introducing the OCs and all that, so things will be picking up soon! **

**Until then, on with the story**!

* * *

Chapter Three: Meeting Marie

Standing tall and straight, shoulders thrown back and head held high, the girl's decent would have likely been far more intimidating had she not stumbled over her too-large boots after only two steps, causing her to tumble rather ungracefully to the ground at Rosie's feet. Even in her general discomfort, Rosie had to bite the inside for her cheek to keep from laughing as Marie coughed and dragged herself up off the ground, new dirt stains adding to the many already adoring her barrowed attire, making it quite evident that tripping wasn't an wholly uncommon event for her.

A scowl dressed her face and she muttered what sounded like a stream of curses under her breathe as she righted herself, readjusting her tunic and belt, her curls even more chaotic around her fair and freckled face. She tried swatting them away as she brushed the grit from her cheeks, but they refused to stay and after only a minute the young dwarf girl threw up her hands in exasperation.

Rosie could only watch her with a raised brow. Practically swimming in her clothes and covered in a fresh coat of dirt, she really was a comical sight. With a great huff, Marie abandoned her attempt at intimidation and poise and instead stomped over to Rosie's side, arms crossed and dropped down beside her, still muttering.

Rosie kept her eyes on the younger girl – and it was rather evident after a closer look the girl really was younger, if only in maturity rather than years. After all, dwarf ages didn't work the same a human ages, as Rosie already knew. The girl had a rather round face – though not quite chubby – and large brown eyes framed with long lashes. Her hair was as much if not more of a mess up close as it had been at a distance and Rosie almost winced at the idea of just how long it would take to sort it all out once she found a proper hairbrush.

Once done with her grumbling, Marie turned to glance at Rosie with what could almost be considered a glare, though it didn't have quite enough force behind it to make it one. Her eyes roamed up and down Rosie's figure, sizing her up before she returned her eyes to the older girl's face.

"Don't you dare laugh at me," she grumbled in a harsh undertone. Rosie raised both eyebrows at the statement but didn't udder a word.

"It's these damned boots, you know," Marie continued sully, kicking the ground with one of her feet in demonstration. "They're too big; I could probably fit both my feet in one! But apparently sandals aren't considered _proper_ 'traveling' footwear." She rolled her eyes and this time mustered a real glare at her feet.

Rosie face contorted into a look of confusion. There was something about the idea of a young dwarf woman in sandals that didn't make sense. It was terribly obvious that the boots she was wearing were hand-me-downs, but certainly she must have owned some kind of proper dwarven footwear?

"Sandals?" she asked before she could stop herself. Marie let out another great huff.

"I would have been fine with then, you know!" she stated, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. "But you try explaining _that_ to a group of dwarves! _Male_ dwarves at that!" she made a great show of rolling her eyes again before continuing. "Honestly, I don't think they understand half of what I'm saying half of the time! Do you know what that _means_?" She didn't wait for an answer though before exclaiming, "It means they only understand what I'm saying _a fourth of the time_! Isn't that ridiculous?"

She paused and turned to look Rosie full in the face, large brown eyes shining. If what she was saying was true, then Rosie could certainly sympathize with the dwarves. This girl wasn't making much sense to her either.

"But I bet you know what I'm saying! You get it!" Unfortunately at that moment Rosie really didn't. What was she supposed to understand? This girl was a klutz, had no proper shoes of her own, and was just a bit near daft? Because in all honesty, that was all she was understanding.

"I'm afraid I…don't," she said carefully.

Marie threw her hands up again. It was painfully apparent that she enjoyed being dramatic.

"But of course you do!" she insisted, and then added as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "You're from _home_!"

Rosie's first reaction was to stare wide-eyed at the dwarf girl like she'd grown a second head. What on earth was she talking about? _Home?_ She'd never heard something so ridiculous before! This girl was a _dwarf_, and Rosie certainly was _not._ She didn't know wheat hill or mountain or whatever this girl had come from, but it was certainly nowhere Rosie had ever been!

Marie snorted at the rather indignant look on Rosie's face, choosing to be more amused by it than offended. It wasn't like she could really blame her for the shock of it all, and she was certainly taking it all far better than she had.

"Believe it or not, we're really quite the same, you and I," Marie continued, holding in another snort as Rosie's shocked face continued to contort. "'Cause I hate to break it to you, Toto, but you're not in Kansas anymore."

"I am _not_ a _dwarf_," was all Rosie could find to say in retaliation. It really wasn't the brightest, nor wittiest thing, to be sure, but given the circumstance, it was all she could think of.

This time, Marie's snort turned into a full out laugh.

"Oh, _of course_ not!" she said with another roll of her eyes. She really did seem to like doing that. "You're just a terribly short human is all."

Marie smirked as Rosie suddenly began eyeing the height difference between them. Sitting down like they were, it was hard to get a real feel for sizing, but all the same it was still painfully clear that there was hardly an inch difference between them.

"Okay," Marie continued, her smirk vanishing only to be replaced by a rather sheepish grin as Rosie's eyes continued to widen, "Maybe that wasn't the best way to break it to you. But it's still true. I know it sounds crazy, believe me, I _know_. I mean, when I woke up things went _ballistic_. Absolute chaos, really, and –" she paused suddenly, breathing out another one of her heavy sighs and readjusting herself. "But that's not the point. The point is that I still haven't figured out how or why this has happened, but it has. And from the looks of it we're kind of in the same boat, you know, 'cause we're not in Kansas anymore – figuratively, of course," she spared Rosie a half smile. "'Cause some way, somehow, we've landed here, in this weird and crazy place with all these dwarves and hobbit and wizards and stuff and it's called –"

"Middle-Earth," Rosie whispered. There it was, she'd said it. And suddenly it felt real, like that was really all it took. She was there, in the most amazing literary world ever created, sitting just on the edge of a camp of dwarves with a hobbit and a wizard, talking to a she-dwarf that wasn't really a she-dwarf at all.

This time it was Marie's turn now to gape, which she did quite blatantly as she looked up at older girl. Rosie let out a quiet chuckled at her expression despite herself, but stopped quickly when her back began to twinge again.

"You _know?_" Marie breathed. "_How?_"

"I just figured it out, I suppose," she said with a half-attempted shrug. "I mean, it's not every day you wake up to a lot like this. And really, how common are names like Fili, Kili, Oin, and Ori? Not to mention, Nori, Dori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and all the rest of them."

"You know then," Marie's voice had suddenly taken on a hushed, almost awed quality. Her brown eyes began to shine again and she looked up at Rosie, seeming terribly small for some reason as the smile slipped from her face and she turned her attention down to her hands in her lap.

"Know what?" Rosie asked.

"About this place. About _them_." She said, lacing and unlacing her fingers. "About dwarves and wizards and whatnot."

"Am I not supposed to?" Rosie asked, clearly confused with the abrupt change in Marie's disposition. This girl had been all energy and dramatics not five minutes ago. What on earth had happened?

But then Marie returned her shining eyes to Rosie's and she suddenly understood. She knew this world, had grown up with the books and movies. She knew who everyone was, what was going to happen, and what dangers lurked all around them.

But Marie didn't.

Rosie's heart suddenly squeezed with sympathy. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like to wake up lost in the woods with such odd strangers all around and not have even the slightest idea as to what was going on. I mean, given, it was hard to live in the twenty-first century and not have at least heard of Middle-Earth once or twice, between the movies and the media and all that, but still, it must have been a nightmare.

Out of reflex, she did the same thing she would have had she been trying to comfort little Lynnette or one of her other friends. She reached out and took hold of one of Marie's wringing hands, rubbing the back of it over with her thumb. Ideally she would have wrapped her arms around the girl in a show of support, but with her neck still aching and her distinct uncertainty about moving much, she decided that this would have to do for now.

And it seemed to accomplish its goal anyhow. Marie's eyes cheered up some and a small smile returned to her face.

Their moment was cut short, however, when Bombur's voice boomed out that supper was ready.

* * *

When Marie left to fetch their dinner, Rosie was left with a brief moment to herself. She sat there in silence, trying to absorb everything she'd seen and heard since waking up.

Did she honestly believe she had somehow magically landed in Middle-Earth? Yes and no. She wanted to believe it, really she did. It was like some sort of childhood fantasy come true. But the logical, rational part of her brain still wouldn't buy into it.

And what about Marie? What was her part in all of this? It was already clear as day that she really didn't belong there, yet there she was. Was it only by accident that she'd been tossed here? It didn't make much sense otherwise.

And the dwarves, what of them? Rosie knew from the brief time she'd seen them when she'd first woken up that that some of them would prove to be very warm and welcoming. But some of the others…well, Thorin particularly had made it well and clear that he was already less than thrilled about having her around. She wondered briefly how on earth someone had managed to convince him to let Marie tag along.

And that brought her to another troubling notion. Assuming this was happening, what was she to do next? She would heal up eventually, probably be almost good as new in just a few days, and then what? She clearly remembered Kili saying that Marie had been traveling with them for two weeks already. Did that mean she had decided to tag along on their little adventure? And was the same expected of her? Because, to be honest, she wasn't sure she wanted to accompany them. She knew too well how this all ended, and it had been heartbreaking enough just to read it, she sure as hell didn't want to live it too.

But she was quickly cut from her troubling thoughts as the sound of laughter tumbled into her little clearing. The light of the afternoon was beginning to fade, making it harder to seen, but in no time Marie appeared though the trees just scant seconds afterwards, two bowls in her hands and two Durin heirs just behind her.


	4. And They're Off!

Chapter Four: And They're Off!

It was three days before Rosie was deemed "fit for travel." Three very long, boring days of siting back against a tree and watching everyone else keeping busy with whatever work they could find. Oin tended to her regularly, and even Bofur and Ori had chimed in on occasion with similar concerns over her welfare, something which she found to be terribly sweet of them. All together they never seemed to stop asking over and over again how she faired and to what level the pain was still affecting her, not to mention the constant reapplying slaves (horrible smelling stuff, really) to the many scratches and bruises she had acquired during her "fall". She had been rather startled, actually, the first time Marie had pointed out one of her injuries. Somehow, it was just something that hadn't crossed her mind. But after a quick reflection check in the bowl of water the Marie usually brought her in the morning for face-washing, Rosie was left with the realization that not only was she sore, but she was also quite a mess.

To Rosie's relief however, a good percentage of the aches and pains she had initially suffered from seemed to have nearly vanished by the first morning and there was very little for any of them to worry about. Her neck was still sore if she moved too quickly, but beside that it was like nothing had ever happened. Which, honestly, didn't make much sense, but Marie had assured her that her own recovery had been very similar and Rosie certainly wasn't going to complain.

Though it didn't stop her from being order to what could really only be considered the camping version of "bed rest." At first she protested, claiming to anyone who would listen that she really felt fine and could at least try and be of use if only they'd let her get up. Some had just smiled sympathetically at her claims, while a few glared or scowled at her, though it hardly mattered because none of them really listened to her anyway.

And besides all that, Oin was adamant. Particularly after she'd tried to get up and about without him noticing (which failed rather horribly). He'd even begun to assign her "guards." Which really translated into him having Fili, Kili, and, by extension, Marie watch her in an attempt to dissuade her from trying anything again. Rosie personally thought it was a ploy to keep the three of them out of trouble too, but she didn't say anything. At first she thought that might even work in her favor. Fili and Kili were well known for their mischief after all, and Marie never seemed very far behind in anything they did, so it really wouldn't be too hard to convince them to let her up at least for a few minutes, right?

She was terribly wrong.

As it would turn out, they were probably worse than Oin himself. Because apparently to them, "don't let her out of your sight," roughly translated into, "we must sit by her side at all times." And that they certainly did. Not ten minutes after the order was given, they had already moved her (and by "moved" she meant "carried," which had been a terribly awkward experience for her, let me tell you) to the main area of the camp. Fili had even laid out his own bedroll for her to use, ignoring her insistence that he would need it more than her and that she really wasn't _that_ fragile. But there she was to stay with their ever-present, ever unyielding determination to keep her safe and resting.

Of course it wasn't all bad. Sure, they frustrated her to no end with their refusal to let her do anything they might consider the least bit strenuous, but they kept her company at the same time. There was never a lack of conversation and both boys could be quite amusing when they set their mind to it. Of course, adding Marie and her dramatics to the mix had only encouraged their silliness once they got started.

And it became terribly apparent in those three days that, though Marie had no clue about the world she was in, she had still somehow managed to find her place in it. Despite the fact that a few of the dwarves seemed to like her about as much as they liked Rosie, it was clear that Marie was still one of them. The few times she did separate herself from the Durin brothers, she would often wind up in the company of Ori or Bilbo – who honestly seemed to dote on the girl, whether Marie was aware of his discreet mothering or not. Rosie's previous notion that falling was a common pastime of hers had been correct, and whenever she tumbled over her boots, Bilbo was always right there, picking her up and brushing her off, fussing like a mother hen while she laughed. On occasion Rosie would even catch her in conversation with Balin or Dori, though they usually looked about as perplexed as Marie had insinuated they were when she talked. On a rare occasion she would even hold a conversation with Gandalf.

Though, if she had her choice of company, it was more than apparent whose she would choose. Which brought Rosie to another point of observation.

Marie may follow the Durin brothers around like a lost puppy most of the time, but it clearly wasn't Fili's attentions that kept her there. Rosie had had to laugh the first time she'd noticed it – which had unfortunately resulted in her snorting rather ungracefully into her stew one evening as dinner was served. She didn't think many, if any, of the other dwarves were aware of it yet, but having grown up with two younger sisters of her own made Marie's flirtations plainer than day to Rosie.

Thankfully however, Marie didn't seem to be the straight forward type. If anything, she was almost painfully shy. Not all the time, of course. In conversation, she was quick-witted and snarky – even if the boys didn't always understand her jokes or references – but the moment Kili would look directly at her, or touch her, even just to pat her shoulder, Marie's eyes would light up like beacons. She usually would be terribly quiet for a short time after that, depending on the manner of the interaction, and would keep her head down to and hands tangled in her lap, trying quite admirably to hide the blush that usually rose in her cheeks.

Unfortunately for her however (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it) it would seem like neither one of them noticed anything odd about their little shadow, Kili least of all. They just seemed to chalk her stranger behavioral patterns as being a "female thing", or maybe even just a "Marie thing." Either way, it was clear enough that they liked her too, though perhaps not quite as affectionately, but it hardly seemed to matter. Marie was stuck on them like glue, as that was very unlikely to change any time soon.

Altogether, it made Rosie smile. Marie was young and spirited and there was nothing more she could wish for her than to be happy and accepted by people who would take care of her. As the days had passed, Rosie found herself seeing more and more of her own littlest sister in Marie; her laugh, her odd charm, and her free nature. And though Lynnette had never had partners in crime, she could still feel herself watching the trio with the same mothering eyes as she had watched her own siblings with.

As for her own place in the group, she was less certain of. It was easy to tell who would welcome her into the group and who wouldn't. Some of the older dwarves for instance, like Dwalin, Gloin, and particularly Nori, were very set against her joining them. They wouldn't go near her if they could help it, and when they did, they made it abundantly clear with glares and scowls that she was interfering on their time and business. And they certainly never spoke to her.

Not that she really wanted them to either. Though she had more or less come to terms with the fact that whatever was happening was real (after all, the proof against all reason only seemed to mount as she continued to wake up day after day to the same world), she hadn't fully decided yet whether she was willing to join the Company. She knew the risks they would face, the danger and the tragedy, and Rosie couldn't find it in herself to be comfortable with welcoming that into her already jumbled life.

She felt some guilt though, over the idea of leaving the group. They had taken care of her for the two days she'd been out cold (if Fili's word was to be believed), and in the days that lead to her full recovery. Those who had welcomed her we kind and warm and had done their best to make her feel comfortable despite the others' opinions. Surely they deserved what foresight she could provide? Didn't they? She knew almost on instinct that it would be unwise to come right out and say she knew what was going to happen next, but she could give them little warnings at least, couldn't she? Just to make things easier?

It was the tragedy part that she fought with herself the most over. She'd almost cried twice over the last three days at the thought of it, particularly after spending all the time she had with two of the quest's future victims. It had always been a painful part of the story for her, but being this close to them made it hurt so much _worse_. Plus Marie was involved now; having already taken her stance within the Company, more or less officially, as well as developing feelings for Kili that Rosie knew would only continue to grow as the quest went on. She couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the poor girl by the end of it all.

And that had nearly cost her another series of water works. She was pretty sure some of the dwarves thought her to be an emotional wreck with all her long, glassy-eyed looks. But honestly, could she leave to younger girl to suffer that kind of fate? That is, if she didn't get killed herself first.

No, Rosie wasn't comfortable with that either.

In the end she'd decided she'd let it be for now. No one showed any signs at present about asking her to take her stand, and even if she did decide to leave, there wasn't a safe town or village for miles. No, she would stay for now and watch over what she could as best she could. She would see what her thoughts were in a few days and focus on the more important things at hand. Which, right now, meant finding her something "more appropriate" to wear in the ways of clothing.

Rosie certainly sympathized with Marie's frustration towards the dwarves over her attire. The moment directly following the one in which they decided this would be the day they moved forward was the one in which they decided Rosie ought to also have her own set of hand-me-downs. Part of her thought they were being ridiculous, while another part thanked them.

Side note, and a word to the wise: it you ever decide to take an extended visit to Middle-Earth, and you intend to be a part of some great exposition, a maxi dress and wedges are not things you should consider packing.

Of course, Rosie hadn't been wearing her wedges since she'd been taken in (apparently many of the dwarves had managed to convince themselves that the elevated shoes had been intended for torment, and thus had removed them without hesitation. They still didn't believe her when tried to tell them otherwise. Nor would they tell her what become of them she she'd asked for them back), and she couldn't really argue with the idea that trousers would be preferable to her long skirts, not to mention that after three days, it didn't take too much convincing to make her want out of them anyway.

And so currently everyone was getting ready to move out, and all around her dwarves were moving, packing sacks and loading ponies. Fili, sitting on the ground in the center of all the commotion, was being rather counterproductive as he tore his own pack apart, looking for his spare clothing to lend her. He had been unanimously volunteered as the one to give up his spare clothing and at first Fili had been reluctant to hand over one of his extra tunics and trousers, despite the little friendship they had begun to build. He'd even tried to get Kili to do it instead; to which Kili had dramatically exclaimed, "I've already given up some of my own clothing! And look what's happened to it! I'll never get the stains out!" (of course Fili countered with a quiet grumble of "you mean Mother will never get the stains out," though it did nothing to help his cause). But seeing as nothing any of the other dwarves own would come anywhere close to fitting Rosie's smaller stature, he hadn't been given much of a choice.

Rosie was squatted down beside him as he continued his search. He had evidently found the pack he was looking for, because now he was pulling out several shirts and sets of trousers, examining each of closely (though for what, she had no idea) before laying it aside and looking at the next one.

But Rosie was watching the rest of the company far more than the blond-haired Durin. They weren't really doing much of interest, but it was generally more exciting than watching Fili pick out shirts. Across the camp, Kili was packing up his pony, tying bags down and counting supplies. Several of the other dwarves were doing the same, including Thorin, who had yet to look at or acknowledge her since she'd woken up. Not far from where she was situated, Rosie turned her attention to watch as Marie helped Ori move his packs. She herself had come to like the shy little dwarf, and smiled a little at the happy looks and laughs they were sharing as they worked. Dori too, she noticed, watch the pair fondly.

But before she was able to look away and cast a returning glace at Fili's progress however, doom fell upon the younger girl.

As had become an almost routine thing to witness, Rosie's smile faltered as one of Marie's over-sized boots landed just a little too far over in front of the other. With a high screech, the girl went toppling forward, Ori's bag of quills flying through the air right along with the supplies for his knitting-project-in-process. Marie, as usual, landed promptly on her front in the dirt.

Bilbo was probably the first one to start fussing. No sooner was Marie down than did he rush from his place by his own pony to pick the girl up, patting and dusting her off in his usual frantic manner. Kili wasn't far behind, though he seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh at the display. And Ori – bless him – was quite obviously far more concerned with Marie's welfare than that of his quills and knitting supplies. A couple of the other dwarves just watched with mild amusement, and some just rolled their eyes. Beside her, Fili chuckled.

Rosie's smile returned as she watched the minor commotion subside. Marie gathered all her previous charges, apologizing profusely as she did so, and returned to her task of helping Ori, though her smile was now a frown and she was not as quick to laugh. When the task was done, she returned her attention to her shirt, stained and dirtied by all her accidents. She tried again to rub some of the new ones out, though probably only succeeded in rubbing them farther into the fabric. Her pouted cheeks turned red with frustration and her scrubbing grew more agitated. After barely a minute more, Marie threw her hands away from the shirt and hissed a word Rosie had not expected to hear.

"_Merde__!_" she huffed, "Merde! Merde! Merde!" She gave the ground a good hard kick before stomping off to help whoever would let her.

Rosie just watched after her with very raised eyebrows. She'd never been particularly gifted with languages, even after years of French classes she couldn't boast much, but that was one word she certainly knew.

When her attention returned to Fili, she found him watching her with an amused smirk.

"Does she do that…often?" Rosie ventured to ask.

"The falling part, or the gibberish?" he countered, his smirk growing just a little.

"The, um…gibberish." Fili just shrugged before tossing a tunic at her and beginning to pick through his scattered trousers.

"Mostly just when she's frustrated now. She used to do it all the time when she first joined us, just mumble to herself. We still have no idea what she says, of course."

He paused then, slowly, and then turned to look over his shoulder at her.

"But you're from the same place she is, aren't you? Or at least, that's what she says, wherever it is. You understand her, don't you?"

Rosie opened her mouth to give him the affirmative, but then thought better of it and instead shut her mouth and shook her head. There really was no point in telling him otherwise. She was hardly fluent, not really even proficient. She could hold a basic conversation, but nothing worth bragging about.

Her dismissal didn't seem to faze him though. He just shrugged and tossed his chosen pair of trousers along with a thin leather belt at her to complete her set.

"Oh well," he said, moving to stand. Rosie followed suit, still very much liking that she was allowed to do that again. She stretched briefly before he waved his hand at her.

"Off with you now," he shooed, "Go get changed so we can get going. I'll see what we can do about boots."

Rosie grimaced at the idea of stumbling around in big dwarf boots like Marie but said nothing of it as she hurried away to change her attire. She ventured as far as she dared from the group before stripping down and quickly changing, ignoring the slight twinges she still felt from her bruises and scratches as she did so.

Fili's clothes were even bigger on her than Kili's clothes were on Marie. The burgundy tunic he'd spared for her dropped all the way down just below her knees and were it not for the belt, the trousers would have had no hope for staying up. She felt ridiculous as she looked down at herself, but had to reason that it was probably for the best.

Feeling like a little girl in too large dress-up clothes, Rosie shuffled on her bare feet back to camp.

Most of the dwarves were already seated on their ponies when she returned. Marie was up and cuddled against Kili's back atop his shaggy mount and she scanned the crowd for the third member of their trio. She sagged with relief when she noted Fili waiting beside his pony with a distinct lack of borrowed boots, but bunched her eyebrows in confusion when she found him in what would appear to be an almost defensive conversation with Bofur. Fili's arms were crossed over his chest in a clear show of determination, while Bofur's hands where stationed on his hips, in an equally stern display.

"You can have her back as soon as we stop, laddie," Bofur was saying. "I promise we're not trying to steal her. But some of us would like to get to know her too, if she'll be with us a while."

"She should stay close to Marie," Fili countered, a frown tugging on the corners of his mouth. "She'll be more comfortable that way. Unlike if she were to be up front by Nori and Dwalin, who have been less than friendly to her."

"The lads will keep to themselves," Bofur reasoned, "Besides that, her comfort wouldn't be an issue if she knew some of the rest of us as friends too. And if you three keep hogging her, she won't ever know that."

Fili seemed to have little to say to that. His mouth creased and his eyes narrowed just a little; it wasn't really threatening or even angry, but caution and displeasure were clear.

Rosie was right next to the pair before they seemed to notice her. Both looked down at her in surprise when her presence was finally noted, and both opened their mouths to speak at the same time.

"Rosie, we were just talking about –"

"Lass, some of the lads and I were wondering –"

But both stopped before they got any farther, clamping their mouths shut and glancing back at each other. When they looked back down at Rosie, Fili looked as though he was going to try again, but Bofur's brow suddenly scrunched in confusion and he beat him to it.

"Lass, where are your shoes?" he asked.

"I haven't got any," was all she said in return. But honestly, she didn't mind. She'd rather go barefoot all the way to Erebor than stumble the whole way in oversized boots. She'd probably suffer more injuries from the boots than the sticks and stones she'd have to deal with otherwise.

Suddenly Fili's stance deflated and he let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry Rosie," he said, looking truly guilty over the confession, "I couldn't find boots even half-way small enough, and I don't have a spare pair, and –"

"It's alright, Fili," she reassured, "Really. I'll probably be happier that way to tell you the truth. And besides, we're riding ponies, so there's no real reason to worry."

"Of course!" Bofur exclaimed, perking up again, "And speaking of ponies, lass, some of the lads and I were wondering if you'd mind terribly riding up front with us?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to though," Fili was quick to assure. "Kili, Marie, and I would be more than happy to have you riding back here with us."

Rosie looked blankly up at the both of them. She would be lying if she said Fili's earlier comment wasn't true; she would be more comfortable back with the three she'd come to know the best. But Bofur made a good point too. For all she knew, she could end up staying with the Company for a good long while before she found a stop to get off. And if that were the case, she would certainly have a better time of dealing with everything if she wasn't as wary of the other dwarves. But she didn't want to offend either, by declining in either offer.

"Just put the lass on a pony and get it over with!" Nori called back at them. He was already seated on his own pony like many of the others and his face made it clear he didn't like the delay she was causing.

Bofur rolled his eyes before putting a hand on her shoulder. "Come on lass, let's get you going."

Without another word, and using that same hand he nudged her forward a little and Rosie followed without hesitation, though she did cast one more glance back at Fili from over her shoulder.

"Does the lass ever know how to ride? Or are we going to have to teach her too?" Dwalin asked when they made it up to Bofur's pony, though it was clear he already assumed he knew the answer. Rosie had the nerve to scowl back at him before she strode up to the animal, securing her foot in one of the stirrups, and swinging her other leg up and over as gracefully as she could. He father had been quite a horseman in his younger years, and though she hadn't ridden in a very long while, she certainly did indeed know how.

She scooted backwards a little ways as Bofur swung up onto the pony's back in front of her. He smiled back at her over his shoulder and winked. Dwalin snorted at her little show.

"Maybe there's some hope for her yet," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Rosie gritted her teeth and frowned. But before she could say anything patronizing back, Thorin called for the company to move forward, and they were off.


End file.
